


You Taste of Tequila

by trashxnebula



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adam & Lance (Voltron) are Cousins, Adashi Wedding, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bilingual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Cuban Lance (Voltron), Drama & Romance, F/M, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Gay Keith (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, M/M, Misunderstandings, Only in the first chapter, Wedding Fluff, shiro and keith step-brothers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:56:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28758453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashxnebula/pseuds/trashxnebula
Summary: Keith’s never been the type of guy who has lasting relationships, unlike his brother who’s now getting married to the man he met back in college. After being offered to be set up by Adam with one of his cousins' at the wedding reception, Keith does his best to avoid him at all cost, having to settle for the company of an irritating but kind of attractive stranger.It's funny how life works, though...
Relationships: Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Hunk & Lance (Voltron), Keith & Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith & Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 50





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is, finally! This fic means a lot to me and I wasn't about to abandon it because I had lost the inspiration to continue, so I decided to do the right thing by it and fix it. Since I had only published three chapters it wasn't that hard of a decision, but having to rewrite those chapters and proofread them won't be that easy. On the bright side, at least I get to give this story a second chance and that's what matters!
> 
> This is for those of you who liked my original story, for those who left so many kudos, and for those who had bookmarked it. It warms my heart that you guys liked what I had written. Thank you for giving my story a chance<3 The original fic is now gone cause there no sense in keeping it around, but I hope you like this new version just the same.
> 
> I'll try to update once a week, at least the first three chapters, but overall I'll try to be more consistent with the updates. In any case, you can always check my [twitter](https://twitter.com/trashxnebula) for any news.

Keith sighed. It was the kind of sigh that made it look like the person it came out of just found out they got assigned a very important and deadly mission. One that would make them have to move away and leave all their loved ones behind, knowing they probably wouldn’t come back alive; or the kind of sigh someone lets out when they have a bunch of paperwork due Monday they didn’t remember until that very last minute. That very last minute being Sunday night.

Actually, Keith kind of wished it was either of those things. Yes, including the paperwork. Because at least that way he would have an excuse to leave as soon as he possibly could without looking like a complete asshole.

He sighed again, looking at himself in the mirror and readjusting his bow tie. _Come on Keith, pull yourself together_ , he thought. He wasn’t the one getting married for fuck’s sake, why the hell was _he_ so nervous?

“What’s with that face?”

Keith was suddenly startled and directed his gaze to his older brother’s reflection in the mirror, who was leaning casually against the guestroom’s door frame behind him. “Shiro,” he muttered the name almost as if it were an apology.

“You look like you’ve been given a death sentence,” Shiro joked as he approached, throwing an arm over Keith’s shoulder.

The boy let out a nervous chuckle. He was honestly dreading the moment they had to go downstairs for the ceremony. He could feel his hands sweating, it was horrible. “Sorry. I just… What Adam said about—”

“Ah, don’t pay attention to that. It was just a crazy idea he had, he probably won’t do it.”

Keith raised an eyebrow, “You don’t look so sure...”

His brother laughed. “He just wanted to do something nice.”

“Shiro, him getting me that astronomy book when I was thirteen was nice,” Keith pointed out, half joking-half serious. “I don’t need him to get me a boyfriend.” 

“C’mon, just roll with it,” Shiro said casually, letting go of Keith and walking up to the closet to get his tuxedo. “It was only a suggestion. You know Adam loves you, he only wants the best for you.”

As he spoke, Keith could almost see hearts floating around his brother’s head as he tried to defend his future husband’s intentions, even if it didn’t make sense. Shiro was so in love it was ridiculous, but Keith couldn’t blame him. He chuckled at the ridiculousness of it all; if his brother was happy then he was happy, too.

“Hey, don’t you have to get dressed?” Keith asked, changing the subject.

“I will, but you have to leave,” replied Shiro, grabbing his arm and pushing him out of the room. “You can’t see my clothes.”

“What the fuck you mean?! I bought them with you!” Keith exclaimed indignantly at his brother’s remark. “Isn’t that just for the bride anyway? And there’s no bride!”

He didn't have much time to reproach however, as he found himself being kicked out without a second thought, the door closing behind his back with a loud thud.

_Fucking great_ , thought Keith dryly. Without anything else to do, he resigned himself to go sit and wait for Shiro to be ready in a small living room not far from the guest room, scrolling through his phone and going back and forth between apps to kill some time. 

They were at Adam’s family house outside the city, where shortly after the engagement, he and Shiro had decided to hold both the ceremony and reception for their wedding. It was a beautiful three-story mansion, with enough rooms for everyone to get ready, and a backyard big enough to accomodate all their guests. With location out of the way from the get-go, planning the major event hadn’t been as stressful as it could’ve been, at least for the couple. Keith couldn’t wait for this whole charade to be over.

The entire floor was silent, with no one other than Shiro there, getting ready in the guest room. Adam was upstairs in his room, probably also getting ready as well as his parents. Downstairs, however, was chaos. The chairs, the archway, the tables, and the flowers had already been set, but Keith could hear people from the catering service and a few others moving around, probably getting some last-minute things ready.

It wasn’t long before his friend Matt, and Adam’s Best Man and groomsman arrived, and not long after, the guests. With Matt there now Keith had really no excuse anymore to not go downstairs, especially since they had to go and greet all the arriving guests, his and Shiro’s grandmother being one of them. He found her in the backyard talking to Matt’s mom –she and the Holts were longtime friends–, her elegant dress was adorned with a joyful smile on her face that only grew when she spotted her grandson coming closer. Keith greeted her with a kiss on the cheek and a few compliments were exchanged —mostly from her telling him how handsome he looked— before she commented how she wished their parents could be here, to which Keith only smiled.

They said their goodbyes shortly after, and he and Matt made their way to stand by the altar, where they talked for a while before the start of the ceremony. All the guests took their seats and the officiator took their place under the floral archway at the end of the aisle, with Keith and Matt standing to their left and Adam’s Best Man and groomsman to their right. When the music started playing and Shiro started to walk down the aisle with his grandmother at his side, Keith couldn’t believe that it was already happening; looking back, it felt as if Shiro and Adam had only gotten engaged yesterday and not a whole year ago. He hadn’t been that excited about this entire ordeal then nor a few minutes before, but now, as he watched his brother watch his future husband walking towards him with such an enamoured look on his face, Keith was just happy that he’d been able to be a part of such an important moment of his brother's life.

The wedding ended up not being entirely disgusting. A bit tedious since he’d had to be up for most of it, but once Shiro and Adam had been proclaimed husbands and the ceremony had ended, Keith relaxed a lot. The ‘worst’ was now over and if he was being honest, he couldn’t be prouder of his brother.

As the photographer took their picture, Keith couldn’t help but admit to himself that the new husbands looked pretty good. Shiro and Adam’s tuxedos matched each others’ as well the flower arrangements, and they looked the happiest Keith had ever seen them, with smiles so big on their faces that he wondered if their cheeks didn’t hurt already. He couldn’t blame them, though, and that made him smile, too.

After all the pictures had been taken and the chairs had been moved to make space in the backyard for the newly arriving guests he wasn’t at all surprised to find that the newlyweds were suddenly nowhere to be found. Instead of stressing out about it, though, he made his way to the Head Table where his seat awaited him, but not before he took a champagne flute from one of the passing waiters.

The backyard was now filled with people; Keith started spotting faces he hadn’t seen at the ceremony, since the wedding had been mostly for close friends and family members only. Shiro and Adam had really gone all out with the invitations. There were faces he might’ve recognized —probably a distant relative or something—, and faces he didn’t recognize at all —people he guessed were either Shiro’s and Adam’s old friends from college or their work colleagues or part of Adam’s family—. It didn’t matter. Taking a big gulp of champagne, Keith made a mental note to stay away from all of them.

As he took his seat next to his brother-in-law’s, a girl approached him.

“I can see you’re enjoying yourself already,” she stated, gesturing at his drink as she sat next to him. “You better not get drunk and ruin the party with your very-easily-swayed and horny-assed alter ego.”

“Very funny, Pidge,” Keith replied dryly without turning to look at her and took a sip. “I can hold my alcohol, thank you very much.”

She snorted. “You sure? Last time you almost let your douche ex get you back with his cheap compliments,” objected Pidge, making Keith roll his eyes. “Where are Shiro and Adam anyway? They're supposed to be here already...”

The boy made a face. “They probably sneaked out to a room or something to make out. They’ll make their grand entrance soon, don’t worry. They can’t make us wait too long. Nice suit, by the way.”

“Thanks. I had to have it made cause it was impossible to find one that I could rent. It’s so much more comfortable than a dress.”

“Hey, I didn’t see you at the ceremony,” commented Keith.

“Really? There weren’t many redheads sitting on the third row of chairs on Shiro’s side,” Pidge chuckled, taking the champagne flute from her friend’s hand to take a sip. “Have you seen Matt, by the way? I can’t find him...”

Keith shook his head. “I haven't seen him since the photoshoot after the ceremony.”

The girl groaned loudly and turned to look at the arriving guests around the yard. “Where the hell _is_ everyone!? He better not bail on me. I’m only here cause he made me feel bad about not wanting to come..."

“What?”

Pidge huffed. "Matt played the old ‘you’ve known him since before you were born. How do you think he’s going to feel?’ card trying to guilt-trip me into coming. And it worked.”

“Why didn’t you wanna be here?”

Pidge sighed. “I’m not a fan of these types of events, you know that.”

“Dude, that’s cold,” said Keith, taking back his drink. “You have known Shiro since forever. He would’ve been really hurt if you hadn’t come.”

“Oh, like you’re one to talk,” pointed out his friend. “You don’t want to be here either; you’re less of a party person that I am. You’re only here cause you don’t want to let him down, and he’s your _brother_.”

“Hm, touché.” was all he answered, drinking again.

By the time the newlyweds appeared, Pidge had quit pestering him and had left the table, leaving Adam’s seat vacant once again. Keith had known her since she was a baby given that both of their brothers had been best friends since the womb and he truly loved her, but he’d be lying to himself if he said he hadn’t felt the urge to strangle her a few times over the years. She might have been seventeen, but she was still just as annoying as when they were children.

Though she had been right; Keith just wanted to get out of there. It was torture enough to have to be neatly dressed in a suit, much less having to sit through all this for more than three hours. His joy and pride for his brother’s happiness were almost as strong as his desire to go home. However, he wasn’t heartless and did indeed feel bad for feeling in such a way.

He pushed his thoughts aside when the other groomsmen joined him at the table and focused on Shiro and Adam as the band introduced them as they made their way back outside and greeted their guests. They stopped by one of the tables near the dancefloor and the Head Table, where Keith watched his brother-in-law give both his parents a hug. Shiro greeted them next, shaking the man’s hand and giving a kiss to his husband’s mother. She said something to him then, to which his brother laughed and answered back with a smile on his face, that same dorky smile Keith had seen him wear ever since he and Adam had started dating and which had only intensified when they’d gotten engaged.

Looking at the interaction made Keith remember that he hadn’t said hello to either of them at all, and prayed that they didn’t think it had been out of rudeness.

The couple said their goodbyes a few seconds later and stepped onto the dancefloor as the band announced that they were about to share their First Dance as husbands. The song of choice was one of Adam’s favorites, some terribly-romantic Andrea Bocelli tune that Shiro had also come to like because of him. The lyrics were indeed very beautiful, very reflective of how in love the two were. Keith watched them sway to the music, sharing inaudible words with laughter and idiotic grins, and staring into one another’s eyes with such affection he had always thought to be a lie. He had never imagined it was possible to find a love like that, but looking at Shiro and Adam now, and remembering their relationship through the years, Keith couldn’t help but think that if soulmates were a real thing, his brother had been lucky to find his.

When the dance finally came to an end, the guests applauded and cheered for them, and the two headed towards the Head Table hand-in-hand with unwavering smiles on their faces. Keith stood up to congratulate them as they came closer.

“Finally,” he said, trying to fight a smile. “You guys took so long to join us for a second there I thought you weren’t gonna come to your own party.”

Adam approached him first and embraced him in a tight hug. “Ha-ha, very funny.”

Keith chuckled. “Welcome to the family. Officially.”

“Aw, thank you!” He answered as they let go of each other. “And here you had me thinking for years you were too cool for emotions.”

He rolled his eyes as his brother laughed at the statement.

Shiro joined in his husband’s teasing. “And you still haven't heard his Best Man speech,” he said, putting his arm around Adam’s waist. “He’s a total sap deep inside.”

“Okay, you're this close” Keith warned him, mimicking the words with his fingers, “to me deciding against it. And how would you know if it’s heartfelt or not? It’s not like you’ve read it.”

His brother was about to respond when Matt miraculously reappeared, calling Shiro’s name as he got closer. Shiro let go of Adam and walked towards his friend who most surely wanted to congratulate him as well.

“Lighten up, Keith,” commented his brother-in-law, trying to get his attention back. He offered him a smile, sensing his nervousness. “I’m sure he’ll love whatever you say. Sentimental or not, Shiro knows the words come from your heart.”

He could only nod as Adam excused himself and went to greet and be congratulated by his groomsmen. Finding himself awkwardly alone, Keith went over to where Shiro and Matt were discussing and laughing about —more likely as always— nothing of big importance. He would’ve decided against it, preferring to stand alone if his brother would have been talking to his old friends from college instead. Pidge barged in into their conversation a few minutes later to give Shiro a hug as well, ad it suddenly felt as if it were just the four of them once again, at the Holt’s or at Shiro’s apartment cracking stupid jokes and playing video games and just having the best of times. While it lasted, the conversation flowed easily and Keith was able to relax, even if only a little.

Everything after was pretty much uneventful. They all sat in their respective seats at the Head Table and then dinner was served, relieving Keith of the need to make conversation with the groomsman at his right. Even Adam at his left didn’t pay much attention to him, choosing to direct his conversation towards Shiro, who would most eagerly ignore the world to focus only on him.

He began to tense again, however, remembering that he would have to give his speech in brief minutes. He had in fact written some sincere words about his brother, but he wasn’t too comfortable with the idea of having to say them out loud, let alone share them with a bunch of strangers. It had never been easy for him to express his feelings about anything ─as a kid, he’d been too shy and now he was simply too embarrassed.

Since there evidently wasn’t a way out of it without disappointing his brother, Keith decided to just focus on his food and leave the inevitable for later.

Once the first course of the meal had been served and everyone had finished their entrées, Keith headed towards the stage to ask the band for a microphone. Not wanting to stand in the middle of the dancefloor or the stage to give the speech, he went back to his seat at the Head Table ─already in the spotlight─ where he at least wouldn’t be alone. He then clinked his glass, calling for everyone’s attention, and took a crumpled sheet of paper from one of his tux’s inside pockets.

“So, hum...” Keith began doubtful, the nerves taking a hold of his words. He cleared his throat. “There are a lot of things that I’ve written on this paper that I’m not gonna say here tonight because I’m ‘too cool for emotions’,” there were a few laughs around the tables, especially next to him. “So I’m just gonna give this to you later, Shiro.”

His brother smiled.

“Not many of you know, but Shiro and I are not brothers by blood. My mom met his dad when I was about five and they got married a short time after,” Keith looked down at the paper for a brief second as if seeking encouragement from it. “People tend to assume that we are related because we get along pretty well despite our age gap,” he continued. “But it wasn't always like that. It was weird for me at first, having both a sibling and someone else to look up to instead of just my mom. It took me a while to get used to him, and when I finally had… the terrible accident happened.”

Keith stopped and took a deep breath. Even after so many years, it was still hard for him to talk about the death of his mother, let alone mention it.

Looking into Shiro’s eyes, Keith started to let out more than he had initially intended, picturing only his brother in the room. “You were strong for me in your grief; you were there for me even when I pushed you away; you made sure that we overcame our pain together. There’s not a memory of when I’ve been at my worst that you’re not there, making sure that I never give up; always with that patient and optimistic personality of yours that I sometimes hate,” Shiro laughed at the words. “I know I don’t say this as often as you deserve to hear it, but you are truly an amazing brother. I can’t picture my life without you in it and I don’t want to.

“I’m sure your dad would be very proud of the person you've become and of having found someone as extraordinary as Adam; he would’ve loved him as much as I do,” Shiro looked at his husband with a smile and held his hand, giving him an endearing kiss on the cheek. “Now Adam, I know there might be times when you want to strangle Shiro because you just want to be alone and he won’t stop trying to make you feel better or because he will change the channel without a warning even when you were watching TV first, but I can assure you that he’s going to love you and care for you and always be there when you need him, even for the silliest of things.”

Keith paused and took a deep breath. Not wanting to spill any more sentiment, he finished raising his glass for a toast. “I wish you both all the happiness in the world.”

Everyone applauded him as he put away the microphone trying to hide his blushed cheeks and the tears forming in his eyes. Shiro stood up and gave him a tight hug; Keith had never been comfortable with PDA ─not even with something as simple as holding hands with someone─ in front of a bunch of strangers, but he gave in to the embrace.

“Here,” the boy said once they let go, handing him the sheet of paper. “You deserve to read the whole thing.”

“Thanks,” Shiro replied with a smile and tucked it away in the inside pocket of his jacket. “I knew you were just pretending to not have any feelings.”

“Ugh,” Keith groaned, but not without letting out a laugh. “Shut up!”

They returned to their seats and the staff continued serving the rest of the meal. Keith's accelerated heartbeat started to go back to normal now that his torture was finally over, but not without the help of another champagne flute.

Next, it was Adam’s Best Man’s turn to give his speech shortly after the waiters had removed the dishes from the main course and, just like Keith, stayed in his seat. He was the only one from Adam’s family that he knew aside from his parents; he had seen him a few times at his brother’s apartment over the past months and had been introduced to him as Adam’s cousin Marco.

Marco’s words were a mix of heartfelt remarks and jovial comments about his relationship with Adam. He started off by saying how happy he was that another one of his siblings was now married; Marco explained to everyone that they were actually cousins, but given that Adam didn’t have any brothers or sisters and growing up they all spent so much time together, they considered him an unofficial part of the bunch. He was happy yet surprised that Adam had been the one to propose first, given how long it had taken him to ask Shiro out all those years ago. Before toasting, Marco directed some words to Shiro as well, saying how much he admired him for being willing to put up with Adam’s craziness for the rest of his life, that he would sometimes drive him insane and that thank God he was a chef because Adam couldn’t boil water to save his life and would totally burn down the kitchen if left unsupervised, but that he would love him with everything he had.

Dessert was finally served after the speech and it wasn’t long before the actual party started. Shiro and Adam stood from the Head Table and headed towards the dancefloor and most of the guests followed. Keith, on the other hand, went to the bar in need of another drink.

There were few people standing nearby, making it easier for him to approach with no problem and ask for a Black Russian. He stood there looking at the many bottles of alcohol behind the bar once the bartender gave him the cocktail, counting the minutes until he could call a cab and finally go home.

“Damn,” he heard someone exclaim on his left. “You Shiroganes are definitely something.”

Keith turned towards the voice, only to find a lean young man with short brown hair and tan skin standing next to him. He hadn’t noticed him when he’d approached the bar nor had he seen him get close. The guy was wearing a navy blue suit with a black bow tie around his neck, and a cocky grin on his lips.

“Excuse me?”

“You _are_ brother to one of the grooms, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, but...” Keith looked at him for a minute, trying to grasp the idea of why this guy wanted to chat with him. “Didn’t you hear my speech? I explained it there...”

The other let out a chuckle. “Sorry, no. At least not all of it. I did catch the end of it, though. It was really touchy.”

“Thanks...”

“So, are you?” the stranger asked again. “Related to one of the grooms?”

Keith sighed, annoyed that the boy was still trying to make conversation with him. “Sort of,” he finally answered. “Shiro and I are stepbrothers, so we don’t share last names. He’s Shirogane and I’m Kogane.”

“Oh,” he answered simply. Keith turned to his drink again as the bartender asked his unwanted companion if he wanted any beverages. He asked for a Daiquiri and remained silent while it was being prepared.

“So,” the guy spoke again much to Keith’s dislike once the cocktail had been handed to him. “Does that last name come with a first name?”

“I’m sorry, you are...?” asked Keith, trying very little to hide the annoyance in his voice.

With a cocky grin, the stranger responded, “The name’s Lance.”

Keith eyed him for a few seconds, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed. He didn’t remember seeing this guy at the ceremony, so maybe he had just come directly to the party like many of the other guests. Then again, he hadn’t even seen Pidge there even though she claimed -and he knew for sure- she had attended.

He turned away, taking another sip of his Black Russian, and answered, “Keith.”

Lance’s smirk widened. “So what’s got you standing here all by yourself?” he inquired, never taking his eyes off Keith as he drank from his cocktail. “This party’s not gonna dance itself!”

“I’m not much of a dancer,” was Keith’s simple response. He kept ignoring the guy’s hard stare hoping that he would just give up.

It did not work.

“Nah, I don’t believe you. Anyone can dance, you just have to find the right partner.”

“Well, why don’t you go and find yourself one?”

Lance didn’t say anything for a brief second, and then “There’s no need, I’m looking right at them.”

If Keith had been drinking, he most surely would’ve choked at the ludicrous statement, and it was in that moment that it dawned on him that this guy was trying to flirt with him. He has such hideous lines, thought Keith. So pathetic.

He let out a dry laugh and answered sarcastically, “Yeah, okay.”

Lance didn’t seem at all affected by his attitude; if anything he looked pretty confident. “Well, it’s not like you’re gonna stand here drinking the whole party,” he said. “That’s just sad, man...”

“Watch me,” Keith assured him, taking in one big gulp the last of his Black Russian. He asked for another one.

Silence fell over them once again and Keith looked around in the hopes of finding Pidge to relieve him from this flirty annoyance since ignoring it wouldn’t do the trick; in desperate times he would welcome her teasing with open arms. Even a distant relative would do if it got Lance to walk away.

“Tell you what, Kogane,” he heard the guy in question say. “I respect your decision, though I must say I find it a bit odd and kind of depressing. I’ll buy you the best drink they have and leave you alone if you dance the next song with me.”

Keith snorted. “It's an open bar. What makes you think I will agree?”

“Well, apparently drinking is the only thing you seem to enjoy,” Lance gave his empty glass back to the bartender and asked for two tequila shots. “So: drink for you, dance for me… Win-win.”

Keith stared at him skeptically processing the words that had just been spoken. Lance was no idiot and had noticed he didn’t want anything with him other than leave him be, but he wasn’t going down without a fight. Keith wasn’t used to guys trying hard to seduce him or get his attention ─they were usually intimidated by his stern and serious gaze and solitary nature. Based on that, he wondered how he’d gotten to date his previous boyfriends.

There wasn’t really much for Keith to lose; if there was a slight chance that agreeing to the terms would make him get rid of Lance then he would take it. He mentally thanked every deity out there that none of those around them cared for the spectacle that was their interaction.

“Here,” Lance intervened, holding one of the shots in front of him with a smirk on his lips. “A small dose of confidence to help you decide faster.”

“Just so you know,” Keith replied, accepting the drink. “This is not the one you owe me.”

Lance’s grin grew and gulped down his tequila.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite being the longest chapter (for now), this probably my favorite only because it comes with a [playlist!!](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6ULPfXLBqTUmlhOIPQnr9a?si=WSRiA4lRQ5uhkkUkOCAqew) I made this back the first time I wrote this chapter as if it'd been made by Lance specifically for the party, so it's a mix of songs both in Spanish and English. I have this idea that the playlist is more of an extended version of the songs that actually played at the party cause I don't think Adam would've agreed to have them ALL play lol.
> 
> You can find a mix of different music genres in the playlist (merengue, bachata, reggaetón, dance electronic, and pop to name a few). I hope y'all enjoy it as much as I do!
> 
> Last but not least, a million thanks to my wonderful friend and beta Fia for always being so amazing <3

To his dismay and complete apathy for the celebration, Keith hadn’t bothered to care for the music playing at the moment, only realizing too late as he let himself be guided towards the dance-floor the soft tune was that of slow dancing. Melodic guitar strings were heard through the speakers, the previous song giving way to a new one, and the words later sung completely unintelligible to him. He knew it was Spanish, having vaguely learned it in High School and having heard Adam speak it a couple of times, but he couldn't really make out the meaning of the lyrics.

“Mind if I lead?” Lance asked, offering his hand.

Too proud to admit his lack of ability for the craft, Keith simply accepted it and let the other boy shorten the distance between them, pulling him close. Lance put his free arm around his waist and placed their entwined hands on the side of his chest; Keith rested his free hand on Lance’s shoulder.

At the proximity, Lance’s blue eyes caught his attention. It was a beautiful shade, similar to the color of the ocean, and the way they sparkled in the light made Keith want to stare into them forever. They were calming, enchanting; next to them, his own violet eyes seemed completely ordinary. It didn’t help that tiny freckles were splattered across Lance’s cheeks, only adding to the beauty of his already dazzling eyes.

Keith decided to shift his focus, unsettled by how fascinated he was by Lance’s factions and looked down to the detailed fabric of Lance’s tuxedo jacket where their hands rested, around them to the other guests dancing, back to his partner when he confirmed no one he knew ─especially Pidge─ was anywhere near to see him like this. She would never let him live it down if she knew he was dancing, and to a slow song no less.

The hushed absentminded singing near his ear brought Keith back from his thoughts, and he watched Lance silently for a moment, simply listening.

“You know the words?” he asked, intrigued, briefly startling his partner. “What does it say?”

“You really wanna know?”

Keith narrowed his eyes. “It’s some romantic shit, isn’t it?”

Lance chuckled.

“Fucking great,” he muttered annoyed, looking away again and around the other couples dancing. He could feel a pair of piercing eyes on him, inspecting every one of his features.

“It’s really beautiful, actually,” Lance noted. “You’re missing out.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

Silence fell over them once more and Keith was surprised at the other boy’s apparent lack of interest in making small-talk. It was not at all fitting with how he’d behaved at the bar minutes before, but he didn’t give it much thought. He was glad that he wasn’t being forced into an unwanted conversation.

Dancing wasn’t the most ideal of activities for Keith, especially with someone like Lance, but it kept him away from Adam and the relative he thought would be a good idea to introduce him to. At least if he saw him with someone other than Pidge, he’d probably leave him alone.

“Kiss me,” said Lance completely out of nowhere, catching Keith off-guard.

Keith almost tripped on his feet in surprise, his brows coming together in a deep frown at the words that had been spoken. He looked at Lance wide-eyed and confused. “Excuse me?!”

“No, no,” replied the other rapidly. Keith could tell he was trying hard to stop himself from hysterically laughing at his incredulous face. “It’s what the song says. You were wondering about the lyrics...”

“Dude, you can’t just say things like that randomly! You did that on purpose!”

“You blush too easily, Kogane,” teased Lance with a smirk on his lips. “If I keep translating for you, will you turn redder?”

But there was no need; Keith felt his cheeks grow hotter at the remark, and the same annoying chuckle filled their close atmosphere. It was _so_ embarrassing.

His mother used to laugh at it and claim that he would blush for the silliest of things, so much that the tip of his ears changed color whenever he lied. She hadn’t done it with malice, of course ─she had even said he looked adorable─, but Keith had begun seeing it as a vulnerability, and it bothered him that it was beyond his control.

He looked away again.

“Chill, _rojito_ ,” teased Lance. “I think it’s cute. Besides, it’s not at all uncommon for my dance partners to find me charming. They always blush, especially the ladies.”

“You think too highly of yourself,” still refusing to turn his head, Keith kept his gaze on those around them, not really looking at anyone in particular. “And don’t call me names. We barely know each other.”

“Yeah, you’re right…” said Lance nonchalantly with a shrug. “Yet here we are, dancing to a ballad like a couple...”

At the statement, Keith snatched his hand away from him. “Alright, you know what-?!” he snarled, ready to walk away. No drink was worth _this_.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Lance answered quickly, taking back Keith’s hand into his to prevent him from leaving. “I'm sorry. Please, stay. I’ll try to refrain myself from any inappropriate commentary.”

“Why can’t you just go ask anyone else to dance with you?”

“We’re already here, come on,” he insisted. “Whadda you have to lose?”

 _My dignity_ , came immediately to Keith’s mind. He huffed loudly instead, and let himself be pulled into Lance’s arms once again, trying, however, to keep even more distance between them. There was no doubt this intimate form of dancing was beyond awkward for two complete strangers, or at least for him. Lance, on the other hand, looked like the kind of guy who went around flirting with anything that might look at him, from the person who took his order at McDonald’s to random customers at bars. Just like now.

He wasn’t sure as to why he had accepted to give him another chance. His initial plan for the night had been to avoid his brother-in-law by drinking himself into oblivion, which hadn’t sound half bad at the beginning, but if he really thought about it ─something he usually refrained from doing─, it was actually kind of depressing. It could also lead to him getting all moody and ruining the party just as Pidge had gladly pointed out earlier, and he surely didn’t want that under any circumstances.

So between spending all night with Pidge versus a few minutes with an almost equally-annoying stranger, the latter was not entirely so terrible. After all, he would probably never see Lance again. All he had to endure was one song; up to four minutes of dancing and then it would all be over.

“Your speech was lovely, by the way,” the voice he had hoped would stay quiet just a little longer cut through the comfortable silence that had set upon them for a second time, starting a new topic of conversation.

“I thought you’d said you hadn’t listened to all of it...” Keith stated, confused.

“Well, yeah,” confirmed Lance. “I mean, only the part at the end where you said how much you admired your brother and then said some nice things about your brother-in-law. I got here late, so that was all I was able to hear.”

“Oh… Thank you.”

“It was very sentimental,” he went on. “Which kinda threw me off when I approached you at the bar. No offense, but you don’t really look like the type of guy who does the whole ‘pour your heart out’ kind of thing...”

Keith would have felt insulted by such a bold remark if it hadn’t been true. Not wanting to give Lance the privilege of being right, he answered matter-of-factly, “What was that thing you just said about inappropriate commentary?”

Lance chuckled, and when he spoke again, he was more genuine. “But seriously, I really liked it. Especially cause it doesn’t suit you.” There was a moment of heavy silence between them in which Keith didn’t know if he should reply something to what had most likely been a compliment, but then Lance added, “You must really love your brother...”

The evident kindness in his voice threw Keith off, not fitting at all with the image Lance had given him so far. Cutting him off and dismissing such an honest assertion with a sarcastic comment would have been a very rude thing to do, however; Keith wasn’t that big of an asshole as to pretend that his dance partner hadn’t truly meant those words, so he simply readjusted his grip on Lance’s shoulder and murmured, “Very much.”

Lance didn’t respond anything to that, only nodded, and Keith hoped he would now let the overemotional topic rest. Having a total stranger ask him about his affection for his brother was one of the most awkward encounters he’d ever had. Thankfully, when Lance opened his mouth again, no more personal questions were made.

“I remember when my brother Luis got married,” he commented nonchalantly. “It wasn’t as fancy as this of course, but it sure was one hell of a party. There was even an after-party at one of the groomsmen’s houses, but they didn’t let me go, of course. I was like 13...” Lance paused and laughed to himself, most likely at a memory of that event. “My older sister got _so_ drunk that night, my mom was _furious!_ ”

As much as he tried to fight it back, Keith let out a laugh as well, though it sounded a bit more like a snort.

“I’m kinda jealous of you, though...” Lance continued. “You’re so lucky you got to be the Best Man. Luis asked my other brother to be his....”

Keith scoffed. “Trust me, you didn’t miss out on anything.”

“Dude, how can you say that!” exclaimed Lance with a hint of indignation at what he apparently considered as one of the biggest privileges on Earth. “The most amazing thing about being Maid of Honor or Best Man is that you get to be part of the planning of the big event! And besides, it’s a reassurance of how important you are to the bride or groom. Otherwise, you’d just be another guest on the list.”

Even as much as Keith wanted to deny it, he had to admit there was some truth in what Lance was saying. Once the engagement had been announced, he had thought Shiro would pick Matt to be his Best Man. It made sense, given how close the two had been since forever, and Keith had been fine with it. So it had thrown him off completely when Shiro had asked him instead. He’d been flattered and shocked at the request and had, of course, accepted, only to later realize all the things he’d have to be in charge of. Especially at having to write that dreaded speech. That’s what he had hated the most.

“Well, unlike you, I’m not really into parties,” he answered dryly. “Like, any kind…”

“Damn, Kogane, you’re such a killjoy,” huffed Lance, though Keith could tell there really wasn’t indignation in his claim. “Is there anything you do enjoy?”

“Anything outside the social environment, yes.”

The other boy looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to elaborate as he raised his eyebrows in a silent ‘and?’. However, Keith didn’t say anything else, feeling completely unobligated to answer Lance’s prying inquiries and encourage his obnoxious attempt at conversation.

“Oh, come on, man!” protested his dance partner. Now Lance was the one showing annoyance. “Just drop the gloomy attitude already! Lighten up a bit...”

“Why’d you ask me to dance with you, then?!” barked Keith, confused and angry at the comment as he yanked his hand away and stepped back once more. He didn’t let him answer, utterly disinterested in anything he could say, and continued, “You know what? We don’t even know each other that well for you to have the audacity to say things like that,” he hissed and turned towards the bar again, leaving Lance alone on the dance-floor. “I need a fucking drink.”

Lance chuckled at his death glare and followed him through the crowd. “I can fix that, don’t worry.”

“Yeah, no thanks,” the other let out with a dry, sarcastic laugh. “I can get my own alcohol. Just go.”

They both reached the bar at the same time, but before Keith could open his mouth to order, Lance was faster to lean over the counter and ask the nearest bartender for two tequila shots. Once served, he slid one over to Keith. He didn’t even glimpse at it and asked the bartender for a different drink instead as if Lance hadn’t just rudely intercepted him.

Maybe he _did_ prefer Pidge’s occasional irritating behavior after all.

He took a sip of his Bourbon as soon as it was handed to him as he stared intensely at the display of bottles behind the counter for a second time. Keith sighed and elaborated, “What do I have to do for you to leave me alone?”

It was obviously rhetorical, but he was sure Lance wouldn’t miss the chance to answer it anyway. Lance took back the abandoned shot and drank it, and when he spoke, his words of choice were different from what Keith was expecting. “You seem a little tense, Kogane. Let me get you something that will help you loosen up.”

Out of the blue, he confidently took the beverage from Keith’s hands, leaving him little time to react, and moved it to the other side of the counter where he couldn’t reach for it. Lance called the bartender one more time, oh-so-friendly making conversation with him and asking him his name before ordering something that, surprisingly, Keith had never heard of. It took a while for Rolo, the bartender, to prepare it, and place it in front of them once done. The drink had a brownish coloration like that of his Bourbon, but what caught his attention and made it less appetizing was its warmth.

He squinted in disgust when Lance slid it over to him.

“You know, I’ve been starting to wonder,” began Keith, not as surprised as the remark sounded. “Has this stalking of yours ever helped you pick up anyone? Or ordering strange cocktails because you think it might impress them?”

“It’s not stalking, I’m just persistent,” Lance answered confidently. “When I see something I like, I work hard for it. And the cocktails have helped me to impress many.”

Keith scoffed, rolling his eyes. _This guy can’t be for real._

“Drink,” instructed Lance, sliding the tiny glass closer. “It’s good, I promise.”

The other eyed it for a moment, not at all convinced. “What the hell _is_ that?”

“That, my friends, is gonna change your life,” replied his companion proudly with a smile on his face. “And if you like it then my debt is paid.”

“I thought you ‘buying’ me a drink meant at least I got to choose it.”

“Well yeah, but you have the cocktail taste of an old man,” commented Lance. “This is more fun. You should drink it before it gets cold, though. It won’t taste as good otherwise.” Keith opened his mouth to reproach again when Lance interrupted him, taking the glass and holding it close to his face. “Not another word until you try it.”

Keith would have snatched it to emphasize his annoyance if it hadn’t meant spilling the cocktail and making an entire mess, so instead, he simply huffed and accepted it. He stared at it for a few seconds, contemplating it; he wondered what could be so good about a cocktail that needed to be heated before serving. Finally deciding he truly didn’t have much to lose, with one last sigh, he committed the enormous mistake of taking one big gulp. The burning sensation in his throat was like nothing he’d ever felt.

“ _Fuck!_ ” he growled as he set the glass back on the counter. “ _What the hell is this?!_ ”

On the seat next to him, Lance was evidently trying hard to not laugh like a complete madman at his reaction. “Man, your face is priceless!” he replied between chuckles. “It’s called _Canelazo_.”

“You’re insane,” groaned Keith. Aside from the cocktail’s peculiar taste, he had never tasted something so intoxicatingly _good_ in his life. And that lingering burning sensation wasn’t at all bad. He almost felt bad for pretending. “Why the fuck did you order that?”

Lance shrugged, still laughing. “You look like the kind of guy who likes strong drinks.”

Keith scoffed again, trying hard to ignore the fact that Lance had obnoxiously asserted with his prediction. Was he that easy to read? He wished he would be able to keep his act together. Lance, however, was doing an awfully good job at getting under his skin.

It was incredibly exasperating how a single being could contain such flirtatious energy. Never in his life had he met someone who so easily spoke such ridiculously true things, someone who under all that apparent cockyness was so surprisingly observant of others. There was no doubt some part of him was pissed at the fact that Lance didn’t seem at all affected by his sulky attitude yet somewhere around all that annoying personality of his, it got Keith feeling something he quite couldn’t put his finger on.

He did his best to keep whatever it was he was feeling at their lowest and focus on getting Lance to leave. He was sure that if they kept drinking together it would most surely not end well. For Keith at least.

“I seriously wonder how this has worked for you in the past...” he grumbled, trying to play it cool even though he could feel his cheeks heat up. Trying to act normal, he slid the glass across the bar for Rolo to retrieve when he had the chance, keeping his gaze away from Lance. He was not going to be teased about blushing too easily for a second time on the same night.

However, it wasn’t enough to hold on to his pride.

Keith could almost see Lance’s wide grin on full display from the corner of his eye and imagine his radiant blue eyes glowing with that mischievous sparkle that still irritated him. It made him blush even harder.

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that,” commented Lance, his smirk growing with the words. He drank the remaining tequila shot. “Seems to me like it wasn’t so bad after all...”

The lingering burning sensation in Keith’s throat was nothing compared to the knot forming in his stomach; the suppression of mixed sentiments he was not used to feeling in combination with the alcohol was suddenly making him uncomfortable.

Pidge had been right after all; his horny alter ego was now screaming to come out after one too many drinks.

“Well, your debt is paid,” he croaked, turning to look at Lance again. He tried his best to bury down such unpleasant emotions by maintaining a neutral expression. “You can give me back my Bourbon and go.”

“Jeez, try not to sound so grateful,” protested Lance and reached for said drink. “Has anyone ever told you you’re fucking rude?”

“What’s your deal anyway?” snarled Keith defensively. “Did someone set you up for this?”

“What?" taken aback by the inquiring, Lance put back the drink before the other could reach for it.

“It was Pidge, wasn’t it? I wouldn’t be surprised, she likes to mess with me.”

Lance scoffed indignantly. “I don’t even know anyone by that name! Why would you think someone would do that?”

“Please, I’m not an idiot. How much is she paying you?”

“Dude, you have some serious trust issues...” his companion’s eyebrows met in a concerned frown. His tone was more composed when he continued. “No one’s paying me anything, I swear. I just saw a hot guy sitting all by himself at the bar and decided to make a move. What’s wrong with that?”

Keith snorted, trying to pretend Lance’s words had been a forced compliment so they wouldn’t get to him. _He’s just trying to get into your head by acting all smooth and flirty_. It would have been easier if there hadn’t been something inside him that wanted to make him believe otherwise, but he brushed it off dismissively. He was not going to let Pidge’s words win.

“Alright,” acknowledged Lance, raising his hands up in defeat. “I apologize for my behavior. I admit I might’ve been a little pushy-”

“ _A little?_ ” noted Keith, raising an eyebrow.

Lance chuckled. “Fine, maybe a lot. But I swear I’m telling you the truth.” The two boys stared for a moment as if trying to read each other. Keith couldn’t stop thinking how _unbelievably blue_ Lance’s eyes were. “Can you give me another chance so we start again?”

Reluctant to let pass the apology-slash-confession as honest, Keith refrained himself from giving an answer, only letting out a scoff. The alcohol was doing things to his brain already, the combination of different beverages taking over his neurons, and so decided to use the little self-control he had left to keep quiet. He was sure Lance would use his words against him and wouldn’t leave it alone for as long as the night lasted. At this point, opening his mouth to say something that wasn’t defensive was to play in dangerous territory.

“I promise I can be a far better company than that friend of yours,” he insisted in a more friendly way, resting an elbow on the bar. “What do you say we play a game? Get to know each other?”

“I don’t think so,” muttered Keith.

“C’mon, I dare you.”

“We’re not doing this,” Keith repeated, looking at him firmly in the eyes and trying hard to hide the unpleasant feeling in his chest and guts with the ever-present annoyance.

“If you still wanna pretend that my presence bothers you, fine. But I’m not buying any of your bullshit,” divulged Lance smoothly and leaned closer, completely evading the meaning of personal space. “I know you really enjoy my company.”

Having their faces only inches apart made it difficult for Keith to keep his serious expression. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“

Thank you,” answered the other with a smug grin. They kept their gaze on each other for a minute again before Lance called the bartender for what seemed like the hundredth time. “Rolo, give us eight tequila shots, please.”

〜

It was all laughs and harmless bickering after that, accompanied by random questions being asked back and forth. It was Lance telling Keith that he couldn’t drink all the shots to avoid answering his raunchy interrogations, that it wasn't the right way to play Truth or Drink, and that he at least had to reply to one of his questions. It was Keith telling Lance between laughs that he didn’t care about the game’s stupid rules and that he would keep doing so for as long as the night lasted.

Another round of shots was ordered, and by then Keith had let go of his inhibitions. He couldn’t really tell though if it was the interaction with Lance that came easy or the alcohol in his system that had just helped him loosen up. Maybe it was the latter that made the former possible. Maybe it was the small liking he’d taken to Lace mixed with the strong drinks. Either way, he tried not to give it much thought.

“Okay, okay. Fine,” consented Lance before distributing the newly-served drinks. “I’ll tone down my questions a bit, but you gotta answer me, man.”

Keith reached over and took three shots for himself. “I make no such promises.”

Lance never stopped complaining at how boring Keith had made the game, but asked his questions nonetheless. With the same dynamic as before, Keith told him about his university major and how it had been his mother who had inspired him to study Astronomy, and about his friendship with Pidge. He did drink, however, when Lance asked him to tell him more about his mother. No matter how drunk he was, she was never a topic of conversation.

When it was Keith’s turn to ask, Lance answered by telling him about his Performing Arts Major at Daibazaal School of Arts, about his summer job at the same dance studio he took classes at during the school year, and about his fluency in Spanish and his early years living in Havana, where he had gotten to practice it more. He told him the incentive to learn the language had come from his Cuban mother, having taught it to him since he was little.

The game’s flow broke, however, when Lance didn’t answer the last question, suddenly exclaiming, “Oh my God, I love this song!”. He jumped off the stool and took off his jacket, later abandoning it on the seat. He took Keith by the wrist and started pulling him towards the dance-floor. “C’mon!”

Completely dazed by the alcohol in his brain and the sudden realization of the loud music blasting through the speakers ─or perhaps it was simply because of how turned on he was at the sight of Lance in suspenders─, Keith didn’t fight back and let himself be dragged toward the dancing crowd without a second thought. Lance started swaying his hips to the rhythm as if the song flowed inside him and singing out loud along the words once they found themselves amongst the other dancing guests, and Keith realized there was no way in hell he would now leave.

Without a warning, Lance took his hand and twirled him around, only to then pull him closer and put a hand around his waist. Suddenly, Keith found himself staring directly into Lance’s hypnotizing blue eyes, which added to the closeness and the tantalizing scent of his cologne, made him catch his breath. Feeling drawn to the gem-like irises and unable to look away, Keith put his arm around Lance’s neck, the need to be closer burning in his core.

His moves were clumsy and off-beat compared to his partner’s, but Lance didn’t seem to care. He only sang at the top of his lungs, giving Keith none other than his trademark flirty look whenever he wasn’t singing and led the dance just as before. The way Lance was looking at him made Keith feel like he was singing the lyrics to him, even though he couldn’t understand a single word.

He wondered if all of the music in the party was in Spanish. Sure, the melody was upbeat and really catchy, but it didn’t stop him from wishing he could understand what it said. Maybe if he knew he could stop his horny ass from pretending the lyrics were being sung to him, or maybe even stop himself from being so marveled by Lance’s singing.

The thin dress shirt Keith was wearing suddenly felt too warm despite having disposed of his jacket and rolled up his sleeves hours ago. It could’ve been the heat of Lance’s body pressed against his, Keith’s own body heat rising due to their proximity, or the combination of the two with the many guests dancing enthusiastically around them. Either way, it was all making the knot of his bow tie feel too tight around his neck as if it were limiting the access of air in his lungs.

Everything about the whole situation was overwhelming: the loud music pounding in his ears, the choking sensation in his throat, the very few inches between him and Lance; it was all messing with his head. He guessed he could thank their little drinking game. Or everything else he had drunk before that. In any case, Keith couldn't deny himself any longer how strangely attracted he was to Lance.

It went on like that for countless songs, and Keith lost track of how many they had been dancing to already. Time had become completely irrelevant due to how much he was enjoying himself, even if he hated to admit it. It was an otherworldly experience, being here with Lance, in the last place he had thought he’d ever see himself. He danced to songs in both Spanish and English alike and even sang along to a few of the latter, which earned him some teases from Lance. Keith reproached, saying he knew them not necessarily because he liked them, but that just made his partner make fun of him even more.

They danced close to each other and at arm’s length, the ever-growing tension building inside Keith’s chest long ago accepted. Every time the song changed, Lance’s hype was inexplicable. He would sometimes lift his arms up in the air, always singing along, and swing his hips rhythmically to the sides. Every time the song changed, the sight of Lance dancing so lively made Keith’s breath catch in his throat.

Maybe it was the way Lance looked in a dress shirt, with the sleeves rolled up, and suspenders. Maybe it was the way he moved or the way he smiled. Maybe it was the innumerable amount of drinks Keith had on him that were doing things to his head. Maybe it was all of it.And maybe, just maybe, Keith didn’t actually care.

A new song began, and Lance’s hands found their way back to his waist, to which Keith wrapped his arms around his neck just as many times before. Their faces met very closely again, their eyes staring right into each other's. Keith took a shaky breath as he felt the unwavering sway of Lance’s hips so close to his, and he tried to mimic it. His partner chuckled at the failed attempt and, taking one of Keith’s hands, spun him around to press himself against his back. He then placed both hands on Keith’s hips, his hot breath sending shivers down Keith’s spine the moment he felt it on his neck, and started guiding his movements.

It was exhilarating. Keith felt as if he had stopped breathing a long time ago, constantly finding himself unable to fill his lungs with oxygen. It was hard to concentrate on the dancing when the only thing on his mind was the closeness with Lance. The side of his face tingled just at the ghostly presence of his partner’s soft cheek only inches apart from his, and his skin burned under his clothes where those firm palms and slender fingers held on to his hips. It wasn’t easy to fight for self-control.

Not wanting to contain himself any longer, Keith tilted his head back, slowly bringing Lance’s face closer by placing a hand on the nape of his neck. It was clumsy at first, their lips meeting in a strange angle due to their positions, but also a bit tentative and shy as they weren’t sure how it was supposed to go. The pace allowed Keith to savor the bittersweet taste and softness of Lance’s lips; every encounter only added fuel to the desire and lust that had been building inside him. There was definitely no going back from this, already miles down the rabbit hole, but it didn’t bother Keith at all.

As he started to deepen the kiss, Lance pulled away slowly. Fuck, this was a mistake was the only thing that crossed Keith’s mind as panic rose into him, but the thought quickly vanished when he opened his eyes and saw the small smirk taking shape on Lance’s mouth.

“Come,” whispered Lance, their faces still only inches apart, and took his hand to guide him through and out of the dance-floor.

They made their way around the guests and out of the dance-floor in less than a second, heading inside the house towards somewhere else entirely. Keith felt as if they were two silly teenagers sneaking around, which would’ve made him feel ridiculous if he were less wasted, but he was now beyond the point of giving a single fuck. He could only let himself be dragged by Lance up the stairs and through the dark and empty first floor of the mansion in search of a more private spot so he could have another taste of him.

Walking hurriedly inside a small closet, Keith was roughly pressed against the door once it was closed, their kissing already more desperate and passionate than how it had started. They were hungry; Lance’s hands on Keith’s hips, grabbing at his dress shirt or reaching down to his ass; Keith with one arm around Lance’s neck and gripping his collar with the other, trying to bring him closer. It was physically impossible to be any nearest.

“You taste delicious,” whispered Lance with a grin, slightly breaking the kiss in between words.

“Shut up,” grumbled Keith under his breath and desperately pressed their lips back together.

He had been longing to do that for a while now; having been taunted and played with by Lance ─even if unintentionally─ for the last God-knows-how-many-hours they had spent on the dance-floor, had had him craving for a taste of him. Yes, maybe he was horny, but he could tell Pidge to fuck off. He was not going to let his friend make him feel bad about it or regret a single second of this. He was probably never going to see Lance again anyway.

The only thing that worried him was either his brother or brother-in-law finding out that he had hooked up with one of their guests, but the thought quickly vanished when Lance pressed his leg in-between his parted thighs.

Keith let out a choked moan, grinding against him, his heart pounding in his chest at the arousal. He inhaled sharply when Lance moved to trail kisses under his jawline and down his neck, passed the collar of his dress shirt and to the crook of his neck, sucking at sensitive skin. He could care less about the markings those mischievous lips would leave, rather focusing on the now. And at that moment it just felt so unbelievably good.

His nimble hands untied the bowtie around Lance’s neck, desperate to know if the smooth skin that hid underneath tasted as good as it smelled. Keith cupped Lance’s face and brought it up to press their lips together again, arching his back and deepening the kiss as pleasure took over every neuron in his brain.

It was only by chance that Keith heard the faint ringtone of his phone, barely audible in between all the want and lust in the tiny atmosphere of the closet. At first, he thought he had imagined it, that it was the alcohol in his head that was playing tricks on him, but after hearing it over and over non-stop he realized he was not going crazy after all.

“Wait, wait,” managed to say Keith out of breath, breaking the heated kiss and trying to push Lance away enough to get his cell phone out of his pocket. Instead of giving him space, Lance groaned in reproach as he moved his lips down his jawline and onto Keith’s neck once again. This time, the trail was more like gentle pecks, but still, Keith had to do everything in his power to keep his voice from quivering when he answered the call. “Hello?”

“Fucking finally!” exclaimed the person at the other end in exasperation.

“Pidge,” he heaved into the microphone but didn’t elaborate. With his head gone completely haywire, it was difficult to formulate even the most simple of words. Lance was definitely doing it on purpose, undoubtedly succeeding at keeping him distracted and sending shivers through his skin under his touch. He tried to bite back a moan when Lance ran his knee closer to his crotch.

“I’ve been trying to reach you,” the girl continued in a loud tone trying to make herself audible through the loud music on her side of the call. “Shiro’s been looking everywhere for you, he wants to take some pictures with you or something. Where the fuck are you?”

Shoving harder, he finally got Lance to stop and look at him. Even in the dim light and the tanned shade of his skin, Keith noticed how flushed his cheeks were. The two boys were panting, adrenaline and booze running through their veins and evident desire in their eyes. Keith mentally cursed at his friend for interrupting the moment.

“I, hum...” he elaborated, trying ─and failing─ to think quickly of an excuse, the lingering sensation of Lance’s soft lips against his neck being the only present thought. Finally, he blurted out, “I’m- I’m at the front lawn. Is it urgent?”

“Uh, yeah?!” stated Pidge as it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I haven’t texted you and called you like a hundred times just for the hell of it! Please come now so I can get your brother off my tail!”

Keith sighed, mostly due to his shortness of breath, but also at the dread of having to leave the warmth of Lance’s arms around him. This was just some perfect timing. With his free hand, he hovered the tip of his fingers over the other boy’s lips, all red and puffed and only inches away from his. It was probably not the best time to get his photo taken, he realized; he most likely had the same disheveled look.

“I-” he tried to formulate, still unsuccessful at forming coherent words. “T-tell him I’m on my way,” and hung up before his friend got the chance to reply.

Both boys never broke eye contact as Keith put his phone away, too entranced and fascinated with one another. They could only stare, inspecting meticulously each and every one of their factions with lust and desire. Keith bit his bottom lip, wanting nothing more but to lose himself once again in the softness of Lance’s lips and forget about the dreadful evening even if only for just a few more seconds.

“I have to go...” he whispered with regret, running his thumb slowly over the other boy’s pink cheeks.

Lance gave him his trademark cocky smirk, his eyes regaining their flirtatious spark. “I don’t think so,” he replied and leaned forward to kiss him again.

Keith chuckled, wishing he could agree with him and give in, but instead pushed him by the chest once more as he turned his head away to get him to stop. If it had been someone else instead of Shiro, Keith wouldn’t have minded making them wait, but tonight was not a good time to get on his brother’s bad side.

“My brother needs me,” he explained.

Lance groaned and wrapped his arms tighter around Keith’s waist, burying his face on the crook of his neck. “I need you more!”

“C’mon, Lance. I’m serious,” he pleaded, focusing on keeping himself from choking on the words at the ghostly trail of mischievous lips against sensitive skin.

“Fine,” he huffed in defeat, leaning back to give Keith space to fix himself. “But you owe me one last dance before the night’s over, Kogane.”

Keith simply rolled his eyes and scoffed at the statement as he entirely undid his loosened bow tie. It was hard to fight the urge to answer back, the words already forming in his mouth and ready to be said out loud, but he contained them. Of course, he wanted to have another dance session with Lance ─to have their arms around each other, their bodies pressed together and their hips swaying in perfect sync to the rhythm of the music─, but he was too proud as to give Lance the privilege of being right. Again.

Without saying more, he exited the small closet and headed back downstairs, rejoining the party. He caught himself smiling at the thought of what had just happened, and, breathing in and out, tried to return his expression to its usual poker face, concealing all possible emotions. If Pidge caught a glimpse of that tentative smirk he would never hear the end of it.

Keith realized too late as he walked into the backyard that he hadn’t asked Pidge where he should meet her, and wandered aimlessly around trying to spot her mop of red hair. He only caught sight of Matt at the distance, who was most animatedly dancing with a group of people. As he took out his phone to dial his friend, he felt an abrupt tug on his arm, turning him around.

“It’s about time you showed up,” Pidge scolded. There wasn’t anger in her voice, Keith noticed, which struck him as odd given how she had spoken to him over the phone only minutes ago.

“Where’s Shiro?” He asked, putting the device away back in his pocket.

The girl shrugged. “The hell I know. Dancing probably.”

“Didn’t you say he was looking for me?” asked Keith confused.

“I just said that so you’d come out of hiding,” she replied unapologetically, letting out a light chuckle. “If I had told you I wanted some company you would’ve ignored me.”

The boy scoffed and clenched his jaw, trying to swallow down the complaint that was already forming in his mouth. He was pissed; he had fallen right into her trap and had been forced to give up his amazing hook-up because she was feeling lonely. Childhood friends be damned; with his horny ass in command, he was not about to forgive her anytime soon.

“If you wanted me to babysit you, the least you could do is pay me.”

“Oh, please,” articulated his friend. “Like you have something better to do. Stop whining.”

Keith huffed. _I actually did._

“What were you doing on the front lawn anyway?” commented Pidge. “Were you jogging in the parking lot or something? Your hair’s a mess.”

Immediately, Keith ran his fingers through it in an attempt to comb it. He was glad it was already dark; otherwise, she would have seen him get flustered and wouldn’t have missed the chance of teasing him even more. Pidge was very observant; she always knew what went on with him even if he didn’t say a word, and it annoyed him that she sometimes used that trait for evil.

The less eye contact he made with her, the better.

“Where’s your table?” he asked, changing the subject as he looked around the room. “I need to sit down.”

Silently, the girl guided him through the labyrinth of round-shaped tables towards the one that had been assigned to her family along with three other guests. To their luck, neither the strangers nor Pidge’s parents were there, relieving them from having to make small-talk. The only occupants were jackets and clutches and high heels that had been abandoned so their owners could enjoy themselves without impediment.

They slumped down on chairs next to each other, and Keith let out a relieved sigh. His feet hurt terribly from all the walking he had done since ten in the morning and all the dancing he had done until just a couple of minutes ago in the most uncomfortable dress shoes. He was going to kill Shiro for having made him buy the damn pair; he would have preferred to spend the money on something else and wear his old Chuck Taylor to the wedding. The pain was so great, Keith wouldn’t be at all surprised if his feet turned out to be bleeding when he finally got to take them off.

However, the thought of wanting to go home and end his misery quickly vanished from his mind when he spotted a familiar slim figure dancing enthusiastically with the little Flower Girl only a few feet away from where he and Pidge sat.

Lance’s moves were not sensual as when the two of them had danced together, of course, but they were just as rhythmic and fluent. The girl’s movements, on the other hand, were not as effortless as his, but she danced with the same vibrant energy. They moved easily around each other as if they had done this in the past, and Keith wondered if they knew one another.

It was something else to watch Lance dance from afar, to watch him behave completely different compared to only minutes before. He seemed carefree, like he was truly having an amazing time and was less interested in making a good impression. What Keith couldn’t help but think about was how on Earth this boy still had the spirit to be out there dancing so vigorously after their probably-hours-long dance session. Keith himself was exhausted.

He suddenly heard Pidge call his name several times, her voice distant, but it was a cloth napkin thrown at his face that brought him back to reality. Had she been speaking this whole time? He hadn’t realized he had been spacing out. Startled, he turned rapidly to face her as he came back to his senses. “What?”

The girl sighed. “I don’t know why I bother,” she grumbled. “Just go back to ignoring me, I’m gonna go get a drink.”

She stood up and walked away before Keith had any time to process what had just happened.

Alone and bored, he dug out his phone in an attempt to entertain himself. There, displayed on the lock screen, were all the notifications of messages Pidge had said she’d sent when they had spoken over the phone. Some texts only had his name on them in lower and uppercase, others asked nicely where he was, and some more that asked where the fuck he was, and in between all those there were simply annoyed emoji faces. The most recent notification displayed the number of calls he had missed from Pidge, to which Keith couldn’t believe his eyes.

The last time he remembered having had so many missed calls had been back in high school. He and his then-boyfriend had decided to go around the city after class before going back to the other boy’s home to what had later turned into one of their most memorable nights. The only downside of it all had been that Keith had forgotten to tell his grandmother where he’d be after school, and nearly panicked when he’d seen the seventeen times she and Shiro had tried to reach him.

The last time he remembered having had so many missed calls he had been with a boy, too entranced in whatever it was they had been doing to pay attention to the world around him. Very much like now. So he simply kicked himself mentally and unlocked his phone to get rid of all of Pidge’s one-hundred-and-forty-eight messages and twenty-five missed calls.

“ _Me extrañaste, bonito?_ ” someone suddenly hooted. Keith didn’t really understand what the person had said but raised his head anyway to look where the statement had come from. There, only a few feet away from the table, stood Lance with his hands on his pockets and a side smirk on his lips. “Looking kinda lonely over here…”

Keith scoffed, leaning back on the chair. “I’ve had worse company.”

Lance chuckled. “Was your brother mad about your disappearance?” he asked, walking toward him and taking the seat Pidge had previously occupied.

“My friend lied to me,” confessed Keith nonchalantly. “Turns out she was the one looking for me. Said she was tired of being alone all night and decided to make that shit about my brother up.”

“Was that the friend you thought was paying me?” inquired Lance, who started laughing when the other nodded. “No wonder you accused me of that! So where is she now?”

“Abandoned me for alcohol.”

Lance clicked his tongue. “ _Que grosera tu amiguita_ ,” he remarked smiling, leaning back into the chair. “You’re lucky that I saw you then, _un chico tan guapo como tú no debería estar solo_.”

Had his brain been much less intoxicated, Keith wouldn’t have been too swayed by the foreign words, especially because he didn’t know what they meant. Lance could literally be insulting him in Spanish and he would just be marveled at how amazing the language sounded, completely oblivious and unbothered by the actual meaning.

“You know, you’re a lot hotter than I thought you’d be…”

Now that statement caught Keith completely off guard. He chuckled nervously, “What?”

“Yeah… Adam didn’t really do a very good job describing you… All he said was- Well, he didn’t say much actually,” Lance went on, propping his chin on his hand. “He just mentioned his fiance had a brother about my age who was single.”

Keith’s brows came together in a frown, not sure if he was hearing him correctly. “Adam talked to you?” he asked, confused.

“Duh!” articulated Lance, making a face at his stupidly obvious question. “You know, it’s so unfair that Marco got to be his Best Man,” He changed the topic abruptly. “He’s been Best Man _twice_ and I haven’t been even _once_! I’m his cousin, too-!”

Keith could see Lance's mouth moving as he kept talking, but he had stopped listening a long time ago, his words washing over him like a bucket of cold water. He started to feel short on air, and was too stunned at what Lance had just declared that he couldn’t find the right words to cut him off and ask for clarification. It was as if the room had started spinning around him ─though that not necessarily was only because of the confession.

_Adam?! Cousin?! What?!_

“Excuse me,” blurted Keith out as he stood up, too fast that it caused him to catch his foot on one of the chair’s legs and almost fall down. He gathered himself as quickly as he could, grabbed his phone and walked away, eyes wide and breath uneven because of what he had just heard.

“Hey, wait!” called Lance after him, but Keith was far and out of the room without a second thought, not daring to look back even once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song they're dancing to at the beginning is Andrea Bocelli's [Bésame Mucho](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=egau-57yGcw). I just love that song so much, it's so romantic<3
> 
> Translation:  
>  _rojito_ : I don't think there's a direct translation of this; Lance is just using the color red as a dumb nickname.  
>  _Me extrañaste, bonito?_ : Missed me, pretty boy?  
>  _Que grosera tu amiguita_ : How rude your little friend.  
>  _Un chico tan guapo como tú no debería estar solo_ : A cutie like you shouldn't be alone.
> 
> Disclaimer: I'm not a translator, I'm just a bilingual latina and some of these are just close enough interpretations of what these phrases mean in English.
> 
> follow me on [twitter!](https://twitter.com/trashxnebula)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! The last of the rewritten original chapters! Compared to the last one, this one's a little shorter lol sorry but I hope y'all still like it. Writing these chapters the first time around was fun, but rewriting them was honestly better. A couple of years ago a friend encouraged me to write this AU and publish it and I'm very thankful for that push.
> 
> I know I wasn't very consistent with the writing and the publishing the first time and I really want to try and change that, for both myself and for you guys, of course. I hate to leave y'all waiting too long.
> 
> Again, a million thanks to my wonderful beta Fia. You're the best <3

“So, this is where you’ve been hiding,” someone called around Keith. It would’ve startled him if he hadn’t had heard that same voice way too many times over the years, now completely unmistakable.

He sighed and let out a silent curse, his face buried in his arms resting on his knees, and listened to Pidge’s small steps resonate as she walked up the curved stairway to where he sat at the top, almost to the second floor.

The elegant staircase had served him as a good hiding spot for the last who-knows-how-long since it was located at the front of the mansion and not a single party guest went near it. He didn’t find it strange, however, that she had ended up finding him; she knew him too well.

All the time he had sat there, he had done nothing but dwell on how stupid he felt. From the beginning he’d thought he’d had the upper hand, running off to the bar to evade his brother-in-law so he wouldn’t get the chance to introduce him to his annoying relative. Little did he know that it would be said annoying relative who would come looking for _him_. The same relative he had almost hooked up with only moments before.

There was no doubt Adam was going to find out about _that_ now.

He supposed it wasn’t his fault that he hadn’t noticed their parentage, or even so, that the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. There was no reason why it should have, really. He hadn’t even thought of asking Lance whose guest he was. Maybe deep down he hadn’t cared to know, or maybe deep down he’d been so desperate for a hookup that the universe was just laughing at him now.

‘Stupid’ was too nice a word for how much of a joke he actually felt, really.

A glass of something very cold being pressed against his arms suddenly startled him, stopping his train of thoughts. Pidge was probably stretching out her arm to hand it to him.

He lifted his head. “What’s this?” asked Keith a bit confused, looking up at his friend.

“Water,” answered the girl, slightly shaking it and making the ice cubes inside clink against the glass. “You’re not drinking enough.”

He squinted his eyes, staring at it for a moment before finally accepting it and watched as Pidge sat against the wall a couple of stairs below him. She was holding another drink in her hand.

“Whatcha have there?” He wondered, more intrigued than concerned since he couldn't identify what it was she was drinking.

“Gin Tonic”, answered his friend nonchalantly, bringing the cocktail close to her lips to take a sip.

“How many have you had already?”

“Relax,” she replied. “It’s only my third cocktail of the night. I’m still way more sober than you.”

Keith shrugged and murmured, “Just asking.” He then went back to stare down the stairs as he drank from his own drink.

Although she was still very young, he —just like both of their brothers— was well aware of how mature Pidge was regarding her drinking —unlike them—, so he was not about to call her out on it any time soon. He cared for her, of course, but he also trusted her judgment; Keith was sure she was probably the only teenager he knew who drank responsibly.

Despite all that, Shiro usually set boundaries on how many alcoholic beverages she could have whenever he was around. Keith was surprised that she had never complained, but he guessed it was because she loved him and obeyed him out of respect. He couldn’t really blame his brother for being concerned; she was like a little sister to him, having literally known her since she’d been born.

Matt, on the other hand, never really said anything, mostly because like Keith, he trusted his sister, but also because Pidge would call him out for nagging. She usually took his advice on other matters, but in this case, Matt had silently entrusted the task to Shiro.

So if he ever asked about tonight, Keith supposed he could say the girl had drunk ‘under his supervision’.

Shiro had been strict with Keith too when he’d been a teenager, and he had _loathed_ it. Back then, one of the reasons Keith couldn’t wait to grow up was so he could get his brother off his shoulder, though that hadn’t really quite worked out as he had hoped. Now at twenty-one, he still had to remind Shiro sometimes that he could take care of some things on his own, that he didn’t need to be constantly checked on.

“You’re not driving back home, I suppose?” inquired Pidge, but she was more of stating the obvious than asking.

Keith groaned, tiredly running a hand down his face and his friend laughed. “Couldn’t even if I hadn’t drunk. Shiro drove us here in the morning,” he commented and let out a big sigh. “I’ll have to call a cab…”

“Until what time are you staying?”

He took his phone out and lit the screen. It was 3:45 am. “Until after Shiro and Adam call it a night. I don’t think I should leave before they do.”

“Aw, you’re such a nice brother.”

_I try to be_ , thought Keith with another sigh, even though Pidge was probably just teasing him. Shiro had always been there for him when they were growing up, always attentive to his every need and even more so after the death of their parents. Keith presumed it was the loss that had made his brother get a sense of responsibility for the both of them, even though they had been under the guardianship of their grandmother back then. He knew it was in Shiro’s nature to take the reins of things and try to have everything under control, but in doing so, the boy had noticed that he took little care of himself, if any. So now that he was grown, Keith tried to do his best to help out and support his brother in whichever way he could.

“What about you?” he asked, looking down at her.

Pidge huffed. “Dunno. My parents are _really_ enjoying the party; I don’t think they’ve left the dancefloor the entire night,” she took a sip of her drink. “Probably the same as you, though.”

Keith nodded and brought his glass of water to his lips as well, taking a big gulp. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he had actually been. Maybe he’d have to get another one if he wanted the world to stop spinning around him a little.

“Hey, I ran into Lance at the table when I got back,” the girl commented out of the blue, the sudden question —and the sound of _that_ name— startling him. “Did you meet him?”

Keith blinked stunned, “What?”

“One of Adam’s cousins,” repeated his friend. “He was sitting there when I returned from the bar and you were gone.”

“You know him?”

“Yeah,” she replied as if it were no big deal. “My mom and I bumped into him and Adam some time ago Downtown, that’s when he introduced us. They were doing some last-minute errands for today.”

Keith wasn’t sure if he was hearing her correctly because it didn’t make any sense. Lance had told him earlier that he didn’t know anyone by the name of ‘Pidge’ when he had accused him of having been paid off by her, but now Pidge was telling him that the two _did_ know each other, even if their meeting had been brief.

Lance had obviously lied, but why? Just trying to come up with a reasonable answer was giving Keith a headache.

“Not really…” he shrugged, trying to sound as casual as possible as he directed his gaze down the dim-lit staircase and away from her for a second time, though he couldn’t keep his heart from racing at the question. Maybe she _did_ know something after all and was looking for a way to pry it out of him. She knew he was drunk and would talk without much effort, which was why he swallowed the words down and used his last bit of rational thinking to make up an excuse. “He could’ve sat there after I left.”

Pidge didn’t reply anything at that, and Keith thought she might have dropped the subject for good, but then she cautiously stated, “ _He_ was the one that told me you’d left.” The statement made him hold his breath. She was probably having a field day with his reaction; he was sure his face was a dead giveaway. “Said you guys were chatting when you suddenly stormed off. He wanted me to let you know that it was very rude of you to abandon him like that.”

_Does she know? She probably does already; she always finds out one way or another._ Keith’s mind was immediately swarmed with anxious thoughts, desperate to try to figure out how she had come to know about him and Lance. Maybe she had seen them together when they had been dancing or maybe Lance had said something else to her just now, something she wasn’t telling him and was silently waiting for him to admit.

He tried to think quickly of something to say. Not that it would help; he had stayed quiet for too long, and besides, Pidge could always tell when he lied.

“He just wouldn’t shut up,” was the only thing Keith could come up with, though it wasn’t entirely a lie. He just hoped he sounded convincing enough. “I got tired of having to listen to him ramble, so I left. Why do you care anyway?”

“No reason,” she shrugged carelessly. “I just thought you might like him...”

His thick eyebrows met in a confused frown. “ _Why?!_ ”

“Isn’t he Cuban like Adam? Or half Cuban? You usually have the hots for foreign guys.”

Keith made a face in full offense and immediately turned to face her one more time. “I do _not!_ ” 

Pidge scoffed. “Oh, please. You had a thing with the Brazilian that used to work at the coffeehouse near the university a few years back,” she began, using her fingers to count. “There’s the Kenyan guy who used to live in your apartment building, the Filipino exchange student, the Italian jerk you dumped a couple of months ago, and those are just the ones at the top of my head!”

He opened his mouth to reproach but closed it again. Had he _really_ told her about _all_ of his partners? Keith didn’t know why he was questioning it; Pidge was his confidant on most things and the things he didn’t tell her about she usually had a way of figuring them out. There was a certain comfort in Keith that allowed him to be so open with her; she had never judged him about any of his decisions —not even his most stupid ones— and was always ready to give a bit of good advice whenever he needed one, though there were times when he felt that telling her _everything_ wasn’t such a good idea. Pidge liked to make fun of him whenever she got the chance, and she was always looking for one. _Maybe she should list ‘constant and heartless pestering’ as a special skill in her resumé_ , thought Keith in annoyance.

The girl chuckled. “Hell, you’d probably go after my brother’s Scottish ass if he were a stranger.”

Keith groaned as he turned away and rested his cheek on his free hand. “Just drop it, Katie.”

At the sound of her given name, his friend’s laughter died. Pidge could be annoying as hell sometimes but was able to realize when she had crossed the line when being called out on it. “Alright, I’m sorry,” she apologized, but Keith didn’t say anything else. He was too tired to continue talking.

“And about Lance, I would’ve done the same thing,” she added. “He talks too much.”

〜

As he made his way back into the mansion’s backyard after a quick trip to the bathroom, the spinning sensation in Keith’s head hadn’t ceased despite having choked down the cold glass of water Pidge had gotten him, becoming instead more intense due to the deafening music that blasted on the speakers around him. He still felt like everything around him was moving and he could bump into anything that crossed his path at any given moment. It usually took more than only five shots of tequila to get him in this state, but then again, he had never mixed them with other drinks.

Not long after their conversation died, Pidge had left Keith to his own devices to what he had ended up deciding to return to the party to retrieve his jacket and thus be ready to leave the second Shiro and Adam did the same. However, as he made his way towards the bar now, the temptation of retreating earlier crossed his mind again, trying to win over his good-hearted intention of staying for a little longer with his tired body as its accomplice. He had a feeling he probably wasn't going to last that long anyway —with his exhausted feet and his dizzy head, Keith was ready to collapse any minute now—, but he had to try. For Shiro.

He asked the closest bartender for another glass of water once he reached the bar and finished it in one big gulp, immediately asking for another one. Once served, he took it with him to search for his jacket, which he luckily found piled up with a navy blue one on a stool not far from where he and Lance might have sat earlier.

The first thing that crossed his mind as he grabbed it was relief —the suit was a rental, so he would’ve had to pay for the jacket upon returning if he lost it. The second was the memory of soft hungry lips against his own at the sight of the blue-colored garment, but he quickly shook it away as he took his jacket and headed back inside the mansion once more.

Keith wasn’t sure as to where he was going, only that he wanted to sit down and have his head stop spinning for at least a minute. Yes, there were _many_ empty tables he could’ve sat on outside—including Pidge’s and the Head Table, where his own seat was most likely vacant—, but it would’ve made him the center of attention since everyone else was out on the dancefloor. At least on the couches in the spacious living room no one would bat an eye if they saw him sitting there on his own.

So he did just that, and as he took a seat on the ones farthest from the grand doors that let out into the backyard, there was a small part of Keith —a very small part— that wished someone was with him even if only for the company to keep him from falling asleep, but after his little chit-chat with Pidge he would have to make due. There was no way in hell he was going to go over all that again. He felt like a complete idiot on his own already and he would still do so in the morning —he didn’t need more of her commentaries to reinforce it.

He tied his hair up in a low ponytail, thinking how much he would rather have his grandmother scold him for having drunk too much than exchange another word with his friend until at least two more days.

Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t even gotten a chance to say goodbye to his grandma, who he hadn’t really seen after those moments before the ceremony. Given how late it was he supposed she had called a cab already; all the chaos with Lance and then his conversation with Pidge had caused him to forget and thus miss the chance to see her. Keith would have to go see her to the hotel she was staying at in the morning if he wanted to spend some time with her before she went back to Arus, even though he knew he was going to have a terrible hangover.

Keith really missed her. After having moved out of her apartment at eighteen and into a crappy university dorm in the big city, he’d been too busy with his part-time job and school work —aside from the fact that he hadn’t had enough money to buy his own vehicle— to be able to visit her regularly. He had probably only seen her five times in the past three years, if not less, but he held the memory of those reunions close to his heart.

She had become an important part of his life not long after his mom married into the Shirogane family. Keith had been bemused at the idea of having a grandparent back then, the concept being completely foreign to him, but after she’d gained his trust they’d been inseparable.

She had pampered him with so much love since then, she had even started to fill the hole his mother had left in his life and heart, even if only a little.

Realizing he was going down the road of total sappiness, Keith finished his glass of water once more and, after another quick trip to the bathroom for the second time that night, finally came to accept that there was only one thing that was clear. He was calling a cab and going home to his precious bed and there was nothing and no one that was going to make him feel guilty about it.

〜

“Leaving so soon, _bonito_?” came suddenly from out of nowhere, catching Keith completely off guard. “ _No te quedas al baldeo?_ ”

After going back outside into the party to say goodbye to the newlyweds and congratulate them one last time and being pulled by Shiro into a crushing hug, he had made his way down the mansion’s living room to the entrance hall to call a taxi and be ready for when it arrived. The last thing he wanted was to encounter someone, particularly someone he knew.

Keith looked up from his phone hesitantly, half hoping the owner of that voice wasn’t who he had in mind and was simply a random stranger whose words hadn’t really been directed at him. However, sitting on one of the very expensive-looking couches not far from where he stood, he found Lance, with a half-empty champagne bottle in one hand and the other spread across the back of the couch. He had disposed of the bowtie Keith had so hurriedly untied earlier and had kept open the first three buttons of his dress shirt, inviting prying eyes to stare at his perfectly tanned skin.

It taunted him, instantly reminding him of the markings he had wanted to leave on that long neck. Shivers ran down his spine at the memory, unable to get the ghost sensation of Lance’s lips under his jawline out of his head, but he did his best to push it all aside.

“I've had more than enough of all this for one lifetime,” was Keith’s simple response, locking his phone and putting it back in his pants’ pocket.

“Aw, come on. They just started playing the good music!” Lance exclaimed cheerfully and pointed the bottle at him. “Besides, you still owe me a dance, _rojito_.”

He brought the bottle back to his lips and took a long sip from the champagne.

Keith scoffed, the initial annoyance he’d felt at Lance’s first impression resurfacing as he slowly walked towards him, changing the subject of discussion. “Adam’s gonna be pissed when he finds out that you stole that… Not to mention how drunk you already are…”

“He doesn't need to know about it,” Lance leaned forward and lowered his voice until it was only a whisper once Keith was in front of him. “Cause you're not gonna tell him.”

Even with the distance that remained between them, Keith was able to catch the reek of alcohol on the boy’s breath. It was probably the worst thing he had ever smelled, but to his luck, it successfully hid Lance’s intoxicating cologne.

“Lance, I think you've had enough,” he sighed.

Keith stepped closer to him in an attempt to take the bottle away but was instead pulled into Lance’s personal space the minute he got his hand on the champagne, making him lose his balance and almost fall directly on top of him. He was quick on his reflexes and rapidly supported his weight on the back of the couch with his free hand.

“You're not my mother, Kogane,” Lance hooted, his blue eyes giving off that same spark that seemed to accompany his infamous smirk. He began to run his other hand up Keith’s thigh until it reached his hip, making his skin burn under the touch even through the fabric. “Now, how about that dance?”

They shared an intense gaze for a moment, Keith looking back and forth between Lance’s hypnotizing irises and his lips as he tried to fight the urge of tasting them one last time before calling it a night. However, Lance’s expression turned strange within seconds, his mischievous smirk slowly vanishing and his brows coming together into a frown.

It all happened so fast, Keith barely had time to react and jump out of the way of what was a total mood-killer. He was not that surprised to have reacted as fast as he did, his reflexes kicking in once more the second Lance lurched forward, and yet he was almost able to escape the disaster.

_Almost._

His shoes hadn’t been lucky enough to elude the pale liquid that had found its way out of Lance’s stomach and was now on display on the mansion´s shiny floor. Keith stood there in shock for a few seconds, mostly trying to process the fact that he’d been close to being completely puked on because his horny ass had felt like having one last make-out session.

“Son of a bitch,” Keith snarled under his breath. This could definitely classify as the cherry-on-top of disasters of the night.

Lance groaned weakly, wiping any bits of vomit from his lips with the back of his hand. Keith thought he might have heard what was most probably a curse word being mumbled there somewhere.

He was pissed, though mostly at himself. If he hadn’t let Lance distract him from his task he wouldn’t have been a victim of this mess for which his shoes had ended up paying the price. His _brand new_ shoes that Shiro had made him buy, that had been expensive as hell, and that he was most likely never going to wear again. However, if he hadn’t let Lance distract him, Keith wouldn’t have been there to stop the mess from spreading.

As much as he wanted to be angry he couldn’t let himself dwell on it; he had to take Lance to the nearest bathroom before he continued to throw up on himself and ruined the special night. Carefully, Keith helped him stand up by putting one arm over his shoulders and his own around Lance’s waist to secure a good hold of him.

He was lucky to find the guest bathroom empty, and that Lance only hurled for a second time the minute they stepped inside, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth out of instinct. That was Keith’s cue to rush into the bathroom, letting go of Lance and watching him drop to his knees as he lurched forward, his head half inside the toilet as he threw up.

Keith sighed tiredly, looking at the boy’s slouched frame from behind. He redid his ponytail and sat down with his back against the wall. He had to call someone and have them help him, even if that someone was both the first to come to mind and the last person he wanted to see at the moment, but he couldn’t be too picky about it.

Reluctantly, he dialed.

〜

A few minutes later, Keith heard an abrupt hard knock on the bathroom door, stirring him awake.

“Keith?” The person called from the other side.

He was taken aback by the voice. “Yeah,” he replied nonetheless and tiredly stood up to let the person in just before Lance hurled into the toilet again.

Why was Adam here? He had asked Pidge in the best way he could manage to come and help him, why the hell had she sent his brother-in-law instead? It didn’t seem fair having to take him away from his own party to handle this kind of situation. If it were him in Lance’s place, Keith would forever live with remorse of having Shiro see him like this on a day as important as his wedding. It was the last thing anyone wanted to deal with.

Adam entered in a rush as soon as Keith opened the door for him.

The man gasped. “Oh God, Lance…” he muttered, putting a hand over his mouth. Keith could see the worry in his eyes at the sight of his cousin, the same his words had carried, though he couldn’t help but wonder if it was a hint of annoyance that he’d caught in them as well. He didn’t blame him of course.

Lance groaned weakly, his hands gripping on the edges of the toilet.

Adam crouched next to him and let out a tired sigh. “How is he?”

“It’s only the third time he’s thrown up,” Keith informed him, standing behind him. He didn’t want to be too blunt about it, but he knew he shouldn’t keep him from the truth either. Besides, it’s not like he could be discreet even if he tried; he was still too drunk for words to come out filtered. “He’s only been retching mostly. It hasn’t been as bad as when he first threw up on the entrance hall.”

His brother-in-law grimaced, probably imagining the situation.

“What are you doing here?” Keith asked, trying —and probably failing— not to sound so rude. “I told Pidge to come.”

“She told me what happened and sent me,” said Adam. “She went to notify someone to have the entrance cleaned.”

Keith scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the wall, and muttered, “It’s your wedding, Adam. You should be out there having the time of your life with my brother, not here… Pidge and I could’ve handled this…”

Adam seemed taken aback at his words. “He’s my cousin, Keith. I have to take care of him.” He huffed, tiredly running a hand over her face, careful of his glasses. “I have to take him upstairs to one of the guestrooms, he can’t stay here… ”

Keith shook his head. “Let me. You should go back to the party.”

His brother-in-law scoffed, obviously having none of it. “Keith, you’re in no shape. You should go home-”

“Adam, seriously,” he insisted. He was drunk, yes, but his stubborn ass was having none of it. Sure, he was a bit lightheaded and wasn’t able to stand still for long without having the room spin around him, but he could still take care of someone even more wasted than him. Shiro and Matt would confirm it if they could remember. “I’ll… I’ll take him. Make sure he’s fine…”

The man stared at him for a moment, clearly not entirely convinced, but still didn’t protest. “Thanks,” he murmured, a small smile forming on his lips.

Keith returned it. “Don’t worry about it.”

〜

The sun had almost completely risen by the time Keith finally arrived at his crappy studio apartment on the other side of town.

He walked in, slammed the door closed behind him, and unceremoniously threw the keys on top of the coffee table. He was too tired to care about the noise he was making; his neighbors would be up in a matter of minutes anyway.

One by one, Keith began taking off his clothes and discarding them on the floor as he made his way towards the bed, only stopping to untie his dress shoes —which he also abandoned haphazardly along with his socks. He did make sure to take his phone out of his pants’ pocket and threw it on unmade bed sheets before getting rid of the garment and adding them to the rest of the mess.

Finally, as the sunlight began to bleed through the blinds, Keith slumped face-down on the bed without even bothering to close them first, giving into the welcoming arms of sleep the second his head hit the mattress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:  
>  _bonito_ : on its own it means 'pretty', but in the context Lance is using it it's more like 'pretty boy'  
>  _No te quedas al baldeo?_ : I literally have no idea how to translate this, but basically Lance is asking if Keith's staying until the very end of the party. _Baldeo_ is an expression we use where I come from to refer to that very moment of the party where they mostly play oldies. (I don't really know if they use this expression in other Latin American countries)  
>  _rojito _: I don't think there's a direct translation of this; Lance is just using the color red as a dumb nickname.__
> 
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> Disclaimer: I'm not a translator, I'm just a bilingual latina and some of these are just close enough interpretations of what these phrases mean in English.
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/trashxnebula)

**Author's Note:**

> The song I chose for the First Dance is a cover of [When I Fall In Love](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ljs1ada9n3c) by Andrea Bocelli


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